My days begin with a walk in nature, whether through my historic New England town or along the Connecticut shoreline. With my 9‑year‑old English Lab trotting beside me, I move through familiar paths, taking in the quiet choreography of the natural world.

This morning, that calm was interrupted by a family of three deer crossing the road ahead. Two slipped across effortlessly, but the third froze—ears up, eyes wide—startled by my dog’s insistent barking. We continued on, giving her space to rejoin her family, who waited anxiously on the other side.

As I walked, I found myself thinking about how many human families experience far deeper, more lasting separation. Families divided by political decisions. Parents and children torn apart by ICE enforcement quotas. Service members stranded on ships without adequate accommodations. U.S. citizens trapped overseas in war‑torn regions. Children lying in ICU beds with diseases once eradicated by vaccines but now resurging. Families fractured by ideological rifts so deep that reconciliation feels impossible.

The deer’s momentary fear cannot compare to the pain people endure daily. Yet the encounter made me wonder: Why aren’t we seeing more collective outrage?

The foundational promise of this country— life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness— feels increasingly fragile. Our elected representatives often seem compromised, constrained by fear of retribution or fear of losing their considerable income. Misinformation has become both a political strategy and a media business model, making factual understanding a laborious task requiring vigilance and discernment. Are we becoming numb? Are we too paralyzed to act?

The deer eventually reunited once they sensed safety. That small moment stayed with me. It reminded me that fear can immobilize, but connection restores movement.

My daily walks will continue. They ground me, challenge me, and remind me of what is worth protecting. I will do my part: staying factually informed, supporting candidates who safeguard fundamental freedoms, participating in my community —including local elections— speaking out against injustice, and holding onto the belief that our current state of affairs can improve.

Perhaps sharing these reflections will encourage others to take their own contemplative walk, to notice what nature reveals, and to consider how we might move—together— toward a safer, more united future.

Marisa Calvi-Rogers lives in Woodbury.